This Indigested Vomit Of The Sea,fell To

See How The Orient Dew, Shed From The Bosom Of The Morn Into The Blowing Roses, Yet Careless Of Its Mansion New; For The Clear Region Where 'twas Born Round In Its Self Encloses: And In Its Little Globes Extent, Frames As It Can Its Native Element.

How Could Such Sweet And Wholesome Hours Be Reckoned, But In Herbs And Flowers?

The World In All Doth But Two Nations Bear- The Good, The Bad; And These Mixed Everywhere.

As Lines, So Loves Oblique, May Well Themselves In Every Angle Greet; But Ours, So Truly Parallel, Though Infinite, Can Never Meet.

Twas Beyond A Mortal's Share To Wander Solitary There: Two Paradises 'twere In One To Live In Paradise Alone.